


He was burning

by SqueebFish



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, I kind of did him dirty in this, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Sad Kyle, Short, Stan is a dick, shoort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:59:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23891209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SqueebFish/pseuds/SqueebFish
Summary: How was he still alive? The forbidden words had left his lips and he was burning. The fire started in the pit of his stomach, spreading outward like his veins held gasoline instead of blood. He was being consumed.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh, Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	He was burning

**Author's Note:**

> whaat another sad south park pining oneshot?

How was he still alive? The forbidden words had left his lips and he was burning. The fire started in the pit of his stomach, spreading outward like his veins held gasoline instead of blood. He was being consumed.

“W-what?” Came the inevitable reply, and Kyle wished he could just skip to the being ashes part.

There was a pause as he tried to find his voice again, “I said, I’m in love with you Stan.” The words came out rushed and harsh, the more brash part of him making itself known. He hadn’t meant them to be, but he’d suffered in silence for so long. Listening to his complaints about Wendy, being there for him for _every_ breakdown, pushing him back onto the wagon after all the slips; and then being ignored, pushed aside, and made to feel forgotten when he finally pulled himself together. All of the soft touches, the drunken kisses and sloppy nights forgotten as soon as Stan decided he was ‘better’. It was torture to love him. 

“Kyle, I… What do you want me to say to that?” His voice was shaking, and the response sent an icy cold shiver through Kyle. It smothered the flames of embarrassment, of fear that had exploded in him, and replaced it with a freezing anger. He knew he shouldn’t be mad, but after everything… He still hoped. He finally met his eyes, breaking the staring contest he’d had with the grass. He regretted using Stark’s Pond as the meeting place; now it would be tainted with this memory. Stan was staring at him, an uncomfortable mix of confusion and distress plastered across his face. Kyle couldn’t feel bad for him.

“I don’t know, Stan.” He tried to keep himself from yelling, but he was never good at controlling his temper. Couldn’t he at least have an explanation for why Stan kept doing the shit he did?

“I’m with Wendy.” He said it firmly, as if that fact held some sort of power over what was happening. Kyle wanted to punch the stern look off his face.

The laugh that bubbled out of his mouth held no humor. “And when you aren’t?” His voice had risen a pitch, almost sounding crazy. Stan flinched, and looked away. Kyle took a step forward, throwing his hands into the air before continuing, “Don’t tell me you don’t remember all of the shit we’ve done.” Kyle knew he was grasping at nonexistent straws; he knew that all of that was nothing but a distraction, that his company was just a distraction, but he couldn’t help blurting it out now.

Stan was shaking his head. Was he really going to try to deny it? “That-That doesn’t count!” He exclaimed, turning away, his body was facing the pond now.

Just like that, Kyle felt his heart break. He could feel the broken pieces sinking into his arteries, ripping through him and destroying whatever delirious hope he had. Silence filled the air, choking the both of them along with the encroaching darkness of evening.

After a long minute, Kyle did his best to respond. “Doesn’t count,” Was all he could muster in a disbelieving tone. His voice didn’t sound like his own. Stan didn’t turn back to him, and another long silence followed.

“It’s not my fault you fell in love with me.” The words were small, almost afraid, and it made a different kind of burning start. He inhaled sharply, trying to stop himself from seeing red as an inferno threatened to engulf him. He could feel his fingernails digging into the skin of his palms, and his eye twitched as he stared down his best friend. His best friend… who wouldn’t even look at him. “Why did you tell me, Kyle?” He sounded annoyed as he finally turned back to face him. “What do you want me to do?” There was no regret, no caring in the question.

Something in Kyle snapped.

He remembered lunging, remembered tackling Stan to the ground, pinning him with his legs, and pulling his arm back as far as it would go before practically throwing it into the side of his face. _Not his fault,_ he said as if all those whispered promises meant nothing. _Why did you tell me,_ as if he had no idea it was happening. _What do you want me to do_ , he wanted an apology. A promise it wouldn’t happen again. Maybe some reassurance that Kyle wasn’t just some emotional fucktoy he could play with whenever Wendy made him sad.

He remembered punching Stan over and over again before getting up and saying _Make sure to tell Wendy the truth about why you got your face bashed in, or I will myself_ , before running away. He remembered finding himself at Cartman's -- because Cartman knew everything and since he’d started his medication had actually been understanding -- and crying his fucking eyes out.

He remembered all of it while lying on Cartman’s couch, and silently wished he’d just been devoured by the blaze.

**Author's Note:**

> if there's any ships or prompts for South Park anyone wants to see, feel free to suggest some in the comments or shoot me a message.this quarantine has me feeling really uninspired


End file.
